Dark Horse
by Diaed
Summary: If you wander the wastes long enough, you will hear tales that sound like myth, like a man, burned head to toe, who keeps on walking or a warrior torn and ruined that won't just sit down or a Courier who was shot in the head but didn't stay dead. Follows the plot of New Vegas as well as the "Dead money" and "Honest hearts" DLC. F!Courier/Boone and some other pairings.
1. Nightmares of the past

It was cold, almost as though the water was liquid ice, though she did not feel ridged from the chill. Sinking deeper into the darkness, she watched the tanned and weather beaten flesh on her left arm tear away in square flakes that dissolved into the darkness. She watched as the same happened to her thumb and the two fingers closest to it. She felt no pain as it happened simply because she knew that the flesh was fake, the metal being the truth behind the skin. So long as she was never hit in the substitute body parts, no one would have to know the truth, she could keep with her lies.

She fell deeper, the darkness taking hold of her flesh with nightmarish claws, it seeped into her flesh and took hold of her senses. Being pressed to the wooden cross, she felt the sting of rope that had bound her there for far too long. Her stomach felt empty, her mouth dry, and the sun that beat down upon her burned her flesh. Her eyes snapped open, taking in a sharp breath as she stumbled and almost fell.

"You shouldn't do that, I doubt you'll be able to shoot while sleepwalking" The rough and deep voice of her companion tore through her panicked daze.

She rubbed her eyes with her palms, eyes burning against her lids with silhouettes of past people "Better to sleep while walking then to get no sleep at all" Her voice was rough and strained, the use of her vocal cords feeling like a foreign sensation in her dry throat though she had spoken before she had fallen asleep. She reached back into her worn pack, pulling a bottle of water from the side pocket and taking a swig. The liquid was warm and offered little relief against the heat, yet, did managed to soothe her throat.

"Better to not sleep and stay alive then to die trying to sleep" He gave back.

"Whatever, Boone" She stretched, gritting her teeth against the ghost pain that shot through her body "If I don't get some sleep, I may as well be dead" She groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. Letting out a long breath, she took another drink of water "You know, I've read some of those old world stories about a post-apocalyptic wasteland, they make it seem so fucking glamorous" Boone simply rolled his eyes beneath his dark glasses, use to her rants after their month together "They make the main character some sort of clean, well-groomed hero, what's up with that?" She tucked her water bottle back into her packs side pocket before stretching her fingers out in front of her to put the dry and rough skin on show "You never hear about the callouses, the shitting in the middle of a fucking desert, the lack of sleep, the constant paranoia" She paused to remove her rattan, frayed cowboy hat and push a hand back through cherry hair. Dirt and dried blood fell free from the thick, red locks and a few strands of hair fell away "I haven't bathed or showered or something for so long and I've been in so much radiation that my hair is falling out" She spun around, starting to walk backwards "I'm fucking twenty, man" She argued "And look at you, your face is so fucking weather beaten you look fucking forty" The ex-NCR soldier snarled, faintly, at this "How old are you, really? Thirty? Thirty five?"

"Twenty six" He grumbled harshly.

"That's exactly what I'm talking a-" She fell backwards, sunglasses slipping down her nose, landing on the harsh earth with a grunt "Fuck" She growled, pushing the sunglasses back up onto her face.

"That's why you don't walk backwards" Boone stated, looking down at her as though he were looking down onto a disappointing child.

"Don't give me that look" She pouted, looking up at him "My father always gave me that look" She went to stand, something click and snapping in her left arm, falling back onto her shoulder "Shit" She hissed, awkwardly rubbing her shoulder with her right arm.

Boone, once again, rolled his eyes before offering her a hand. The girl accepted it, allowing him to tug her to her feet "Thanks" She offered a watered down smile, running a thumb over the metal brace on her left bicep "This old injury has been playing up recently, I'll have to get it checked"

Boone looked over the limb, inwardly cringing at the discolored flesh. Where she was tanned and scared, the almost plastic flesh of her left arm was slightly paler and lacked any definitive feature save the medical brace and pip-boy "Did that doctor back in GoodSprings fix it?" He asked.

She ran her thumb the length of her palm "He said it wasn't in his field" She lied effortlessly "He was more of a brain surgeon, I'll need to talk to my guy near Black Mountain"

The pair fell into a silence, something that was not uncommon to them, yet it was not awkward. They both quietly stopped talking, finding nothing else to discuss in the situation. Boone was glad for the small woman's lack of questioning at this point, as she often pried at his personal life in between her rants on pre-war culture in comparison to post-war culture. This time, though, Boone made sure to keep an eye on his smaller companion to make she sure did not fall asleep again, he understood how hard it was to keep going when you can barely sleep with unending nightmares plaguing the back of your eyelids, and to make sure she didn't fall over a second time.

It was the sudden presence of a childish smile on her face that made the ex-NCR soldier to raise a brow "There was one thing the books got right" She said cheerily "Humans make bonds quickly" She looked at him, still smiling, as though she knew something he did not "Especially in times of crisis" She chuckled at his questioning gaze, yet, her joy disintegrated. The 9mm pistol on her hip was suddenly in her good hand "Legion" She said sharply, crouching down.

Boone aimed down his hunting rifle, seeing the crimson specks in the distance. He lined up the shot, firing and taking down the small group of legionnaires before they could even get close. For a woman with a sight problem, she certainly had a gift for picking legionnaires out from a distance.

She stood up, dusting down her legs to brush away any dirt that had collected on the already dirty, white fabric of her jumpsuit. She glanced at him and her joy was reignited, the chuckle that bubbled from her alerting him of her amusement of his unspoken question. His unspoken question was left unanswered, leaving the ex-NCR wondering; _**she can't tell the difference between a mole rat and a dog from half a mile away but she can spot a legionnaire from three**_.

They continued on, taking down the occasion irradiated wildlife and viper gunslinger, marching forward until nightfall. When the Mojave was finally engulfed in darkness, the Courier set down a gas lantern and Boone unrolled a small mat that he set down beside a rock face. He watched the Courier settle down beside the gas lantern, pistol set by her side and pack resting behind her. She stretched before reaching into her jumpsuit pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Boone watched the barely illuminated figure take a cigarette from the pack and set it alight. She looked alone and cold, like a toy long since abandoned by it's owner. She took a drag, glancing back to make sure her companion was settling down to sleep. Once she was sure he was, at least, trying to to sleep she let out a breath. She watched the long coils swirl into the air, clawing at the silver orb in the sky.

The grey smoke coiled, forming horns against the moon. The snout formed, the silver bull head glaring down at 's hooves thundered loudly, fire igniting with the explosions of the golden stars. She felt the burning ropes around her wrists, the sharp side of the machete falling down onto the halfway point on her bicep. She did not scream, not even as the machete cut her right tendon or sliced into the bridge of her left foot. She felt the beating on her spine, each break of the bone. The pounding of the metal pipe against the left side of her head. She felt the infections in her feet spread, then the infected limbs being cut off before being replaced with metallic feet. Next she felt the sting of her new arm, the buzz of the new left brain, the new spine being the final piece. She felt heavy, weighed down by the replacement parts, and though the original parts were missing she found ghost pain burning through her nerves. The bull set its hooves on either side of her, burning breathing washing over her face.

She jolted awake, taking in a sharp breath as she began to gasp and splutter for air. The Courier looked down, mat set underneath her and trembling body shrouded in the night's darkness. She moved her gaze to the gas lantern set away from her, the barely lit figure of her companion pressed against the darkness. The Courier rose slowly, approaching her companion on quiet but not unheard steps.

"We should get a third person" The Courier murmured only to find herself smiling at the other. He was asleep. She sat down by his side and lit up a cigarette, seeing the one she had lit up before she fell asleep abandoned on the ground "Hey, Boone" She said softly, knowing he was too far asleep to hear her "Thank you, for everything, you're a good friend" With that, she stretched and lay back down on the dirt and began to gaze up at the stars.


	2. Bonds made in steel

The chuckle that echoed throughout the desert wasteland was sweet and gentle, adding a cheery air to the grim, post-apocalyptic hell. The cherry haired courier continued to joke with the young, weather beaten merchant, smiling and laughing all the way. Though Boone thought it would be better if the two continued to travel just as a pair, the Courier thought it better to travel with the merchants and their mercenary's.

"So, where do you come from, Courier?" The merchant asked.

Boone noticed the faintest twitch of her hands and a slight falter in her joy "I came to the Mojave from DC" She shrugged "I went to DC from New Reno and to New Reno from the Mojave" She chuckled, the sound being slightly cold despite her attempts to keep up her facade.

"Where were you from, before you were a courier?" He continued to pry.

Boone found a small justice in the merchants inquiries as the Courier had pried at his own life tirelessly over the past month "Well, if you want me to go back to the beginning" She paused to think as though she was about to give a serious answer "I came out of my mothers-"

"Very funny" He cut her short.

"I come from right here, in the Mojave, back near Black Mountain" She responded, though, Boone could tell she was lying. He knew one thing for certain, she never admitted to anything about her past - especially her birth place.

"Near those super mutants? dam, your childhood must have sucked" He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

She simply shrugged, again, and chuckled for the third time in the past half an hour "It was actually okay" Her hand, subconsciously, glided to her throat from around which hung a necklace. Her rough fingers followed the thin, rope like wire down to a small bullet casing that hung from it "I had a four brothers, and two sisters, and my dad was a good man" She looked at the man's questioning gaze "My mother died when I was thirteen"

Boone looked to her fingers, the name engraved on the casing hidden beneath her thumb, and he remembered how she had done this once before when he had asked about her name and she had responded with 'My name is bad luck, but, you can call me Courier' and, not for the first time, he wondered if she was telling the truth.

The group continued onward to the 188 slop and shop, the caravaners having to turn back after they had exchanged stock with the man working the counter at the small post. The Courier and Boone sat down at one of the picnic tables after ordering some food, The Courier lighting up a cigarette as Boone opened a bottle of beer.

"I think you are right, we do need a third person" Boone stated, setting down his beer as a bowl of squirrel stew was placed in front each of them. The Courier's face went blank for a long moment before her cheeks began to glow red in embarrassment.

Crushing out the cigarette on the table, she took a mouthful of squirrel stew, swallowing before speaking again "I am always right" She covered her embarrassment, doing her best to act calm. _**He was suppose to be asleep**_. She gritted her teeth the moment her sentence was done to stop any sort of embarrassing babble from spilling from her mouth.

As though her words had summoned the robed woman, a shady woman slipped into the spot beside The Courier, smiling. The woman turned to the Courier who had turned her head to look at the stranger "I'm Veronica" She introduced herself "Where are you heading?"

The Courier glanced back at Boone who simply seemed to not care "New Vegas" She answered "For now"

This caused Veronica's smile to broaden "So, I heard you needed a third person, mind if I tag along?"

The Courier raised a brow, studying the stranger curiously "Where you planning to go?"

She shrugged light heartedly "I just want to go, to have an excuse to get away from my family, to see the world and how it work"

The Courier was quiet for a long moment "You do know this isn't a paid job, right?"

Veronica chuckled faintly "Yeah, I know"

The Courier looked down at the woman's fist, recognising the make immediately. The stranger noticed her gaze and awkwardly shifted to place the metal fist onto the table. A smile lit up The Couriers face "We'll head off in a bit" She handed the stranger a small cloth pouch of caps "This should cover some leather armour"

The stranger glanced at the Courier's pip-boy, a fresh smile gracing Veronica's face as she accepted the caps "Be right back"

The Courier ignored Boone's questioning gaze as she devoured the last of her stew, lighting a new cigarette as she stood and pulled on her pack. Veronica returned with the hood of her robe's still casting a shadow on her face but with leather armour protecting her frame.

"I'm Courier, by the way" She held out her hand and shook Veronica's "The grumpy looking guy is Boone" She jabbed a thumb in the ex-NCR's direction as he stood.

She studied him "Looks like a barrel of laughs" She smirked, the two starting off towards New Vegas.

The Courier shrugged, smirking back at the other "Eh, I've met worse" She looked over the other "So, uh, what's your story? Apart from the obvious"

Veronica paused "It's long, boring, something I'll tell you over a couple of beers" She studied the smaller woman "What about you? Got a story? Apart from the obvious"

The Courier looked back at Boone, her hand slipping to the bullet casing that hung from the makeshift necklace around her throat "It's like a great woman once said, quoting an equally great man, 'my story is like a deathclaws tongue; long, sticky and something you don't want to get acquainted with"

The girls continued onward, the ex-NCR sniper lagging behind the pair, the two laughing and chatting in a way Boone had not seen. The Courier's hand never left the bullet casing around her neck, and, he slowly began to pay more and more attention to her answers the longer the casing stayed between her fingertips.

Her responses were awkward and had plenty of gaps that went without being filled, but, at least they were still something solid. She had a cousins in DC, a doctor, and had spent the past two years travelling with her. Apparently her cousin had an Android who had complained about her departure from a place known as "Rivet City". She proceeded to state that her uncle was a great man, a good man, who died "fighting the good fight".

"What about your father?" Veronica pryed.

The Courier's smile faltered, if only slightly "My father was a good man" She shrugged "There is nothing else to say about that"

"What happened?" And for the first time, Boone watched the entirety of the Couriers mask fall away for the second time in his time with her. Her eyes were dark, hatred and sorrow swirling in a dark a tornado of emotion just behind her eyes.

Her hand slipped from the bullet casing, drifting down and landing atop her 10mm pistol that hung right beside her 9mm "Lets just say I don't like the Legion" Her hand gripped tightly on the weapon, knuckles going white. Veronica tried to pry more information from The Courier after that only to find she was now only telling lies that lead Veronica in circles.


	3. Ring-a-ding-ding

Darkness, coating the mojave in a chilled blanket, appeared as though it were a ghost hidden behind the burn and flash of city lights. Veronica, having chosen to wait outside while The Courier attended to business, gazed up at the sight in awe. What she had heard from the odd woman, in hushed whispers kept from the ex-NCR soldiers ears, left her unblaming of the others decision to linger in New Reno. If this was how beautiful New Vegas was, she couldn't begin to imagine how amazing the glittering lights of New Reno looked pressed against the night sky.

The door burst open, The Courier pushing a digital card into Veronica's hands as she skipped onto the road. The Courier twirled around, smiling as though she were a child "Three passports to New Vegas, courtesy of Ralph" She snapped her fingers, beginning to walk backwards as Boone emerged from the makeshift store, eyes guarded by the thick sunglasses he wore, slipping a passport into his pocket.

Without a word to Veronica, or even a sign that he had seen her there, he started after The Courier and Veronica rushed to meet his steps "You sure this'll work?" Boone asked, doubting her plan.

She laughed, lightly, and moved to his side "Perfectly" She chirped "I got my first passport from Ralph, worked the first time so it'll work this time" She shrugged "He's a talented man, Boone, you shouldn't have so much doubt in him"

"You shouldn't have so much faith in him" He growled back.

She opened her mouth to shoot something but simply shrugged it off, she knew better by now than to fight him. It was amazing what a month by someone's side could achieve "You're probably right" She agreed, knocking Boone off-guard.

"What?" He wasn't sure he had heard her right, there was no way that he had, since when had The Courier agreed with him on these matters?

"I said you're probably right" She repeated "But the odds aren't in your favour" She said, clicking her tongue at the sentence's end. She looked to Veronica who had fallen behind the pair by two steps.

They continued down the street and through the blue gates to the upper half of Freeside, passing the 'King's School of Impersonation' with The Courier giving a smile and a wave to a few of the gang members. The three approached the gates to The Strip, a securitron rolling up to them.

Before the robot could speak, The Courier held out a passport "Passports" She said, her Companions following her lead. They each had their passports scanned, the robot allowing them to pass through. Walking up to the gate, The Courier spun around and grinned at Veronica "You excited?" She asked.

"And nervous" She admitted "I can't believe I'm finally getting into The Strip" She paused, looking to The Courier "Will you buy me a dress?"

The Courier turned away from her, placing her hands on the gate "You know, when we get to Wolfhorn Ranch after my social call, I will give you the dress of a famous, pre-war celebrity" With that, she pushed back the heavy gates with the faintest of falters from her right arm.

The three entered The Strip, the world around them seeming to of shifted in but an instant. Here, behind the towering, steel walls of New Vegas and beneath the blinding casino lights, they felt free of the wastelands trouble. The only one of the group who seemed to unphased by the sight was The Courier.

"Ring-a-ding-ding, baby" She said cheerily, but, the sentence was laced with a sickening brew of ice and venom "We're going off to the Tops" Her voice had grown cold and dark, sending chills down even Boone's spine, as they started towards said building "Once inside we'll head up to Benny's suire, on the 13th floor, and wait for him" She stated, she pushed through the doors of The Tops and approached the counter.

"Hey baby, gonna have to have you hand over all your weapons" The desk man greeted.

The Courier simply detached her belt and placed it on the desk "Feel free to do a pat down" She said as Boone dumped his hunting rifle on the desk and Veronica placed her power fist beside it.

"No need, baby, I trust you. Just, if you find any weapons during your stay, don't wear 'em openly, you dig?"

"Like a gravedigger" She nodded "Thanks" She moved past him and strode towards the elevator, ducking into one of the pre-war, steel boxes and hitting the button for floor 13. The moment the doors slid closed, she dipped her hand into her boot and pulled out a pistol and a pair of brass knuckles "Brass knuckles for V" She handed said item to Veronica and the pistol to Boone with a "And for you" She stuck her hand into her jumpsuit, producing both a bullet and her 9mm pistol just as the elevator door shuddered open.

She strode towards the double doors just down the hall, kneeling down and setting her pistol and bullet down beside her before pulling a bobby pin and screwdriver from her jumpsuit "You two will search to see if the platinum chip is located any where, I'll prepare for Benny" She ordered, the door clicking before swinging back "It's time to return the favour"


End file.
